


we knew from the beginning

by woodpaintedflesh



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Always, F/M, I Don't Even Know, This Is STUPID, all for u ladybug trash, but this time its ok, dis my new year gift to u, enjoy, its so weird i never write fluff, marinette is CLUELESS like ALWAYS, oh shit i forgot to think of a title, someone ALWAYS dies in my fics, steppin out of my comfort zone, there we go
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 21:07:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodpaintedflesh/pseuds/woodpaintedflesh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette doesn’t mean to become a vigilante of Paris. It just—happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we knew from the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> this isn't totally canon? there's no magic. like none. no kwami, no miraculouses. basically just young adult!AU in which Marinette Dupain-Cheng accidentally becomes a Paris vigilante and a copycat/childhood crush shows up to help.

Marinette doesn’t _mean_ to become a vigilante of Paris. It just—happens.

Alya is the first to notice. Marinette comes home later than usual from her internship at Gabriel Agreste’s office, Marinette’s dream job, but with Gabriel’s cold demeanor and aloofness, she doesn’t think Marinette would ever actually _choose_ to work overtime. Still, it’s hard _not_ to notice Marinette’s absence, being her roommate. And naturally, having a built-in Bullshit Detector has its perks too. Marinette likes to make excuses, stuttering about staying late at the office working on her next biggest project, or needing to stop by her parents’ bakery, or taking the long way home. But Alya knows her best friend, and the bruises dotting her skin, the bags underneath her eyes don’t go unnoticed, and Alya is actually getting worried.

It’s past ten at night and Marinette’s still not home and it’s taking all of Alya’s willpower not to go out and scour the city looking for her.

Her phone rings at her desk, but Alya ignores it, a rarity coming from her; she’s never without her phone but. She’s too busy wearing a hole in the carpet. When it rings for the fourth consecutive time in a row, Alya finally snaps, answering it with a growled, “ _What_.”  

“H-hey, Alya,” her best friend’s voice filters through.

“This had better be life or death, Marinette,” she snarls, “because you have had me worried _sick—_ ”

Marinette laughs shakily, “It kind of is.”

And that’s how Alya finds her, just blocks away from their apartment, bleeding and bruised in an alleyway.

At first, Alya is _furious_ . For weeks, Marinette has been going around behind her back and stopping Parisian criminals, stopping a bank robbery, helping a girl who was mugged, even saving kittens from trees, and she does it all with a red handkerchief with black dots around the lower half of her face. Alya knows of all the classes Marinette took when she was a kid: gymnastics, acrobat classes, self-defense—every form of fighting you could think of—but Alya never would have thought Marinette would _use_ that knowledge, especially by putting her life on the line.

But Marinette never stops, despite Alya knowing and eventually, her friend warms up to the idea. She even comes up with her alias.

“Ladybug,” she blurts.

“Alya, no,” Marinette declines, “you’re acting like this is a permanent thing, even _I’m_ not sure what it is, but I don’t think I’ll need a new _name_!”

“It’s not a new name,” Alya insists, “it’s called a secret identity. Paris’s own superhero.”

Marinette sighs, knowing there’s no way out of it.

“Y’know, at first I thought it was a boy,” Alya admits, “when you were coming home late, _bone tired,_ like you’d just been—”

“Alya!” Marinette interrupts, face burning. “You know I would tell you if I started seeing someone.”

“I was thinking, _gosh maybe it’s Adrien_ ,” Alya muses, “that maybe you’d finally worked up the nerve to actually _speak_ to him without my assistance—”

Marinette groans. She’s had a crush on her boss’s son for _ages_ . Since _high school_ , but now he’s... well, her _boss’s son_  It’s not like she can act on anything now.

“—but _no_ , instead you’ve been beating people up every night,” Alya finishes, a strange twinkle in her eyes. “Ladybug. Think about it, Mari.” Alya gasps, suddenly, “Oh, you’ll be so cute! Please, please please!”

And this is how Marinette gets roped into the whole vigilante thing. She sews her own suit; elastic and stretchy, easy to get around, fireproof, and if she ever needs to dive into the Seine for any reason she’ll stay warm. Alya even creates the Ladyblog to promote her superhero-ness. A few news articles are written about her, she’s being stopped on the streets suddenly and it’s all so surreal. Being Ladybug gives Marinette such a _rush_ and she loves every second of it.

But then one night she’s out patrolling on the rooftops and she hears a horrified scream. She’s running to find the source and it’s not like it’s hard with the woman screaming; Marinette thinks the girl’s vocal cords will snap. But when she makes it to the scene, she’s not quite sure how to go about the situation. This girl is completely outnumbered, being backed up into a corner by six or seven men. If Marinette goes down there, she’ll surely get pulverized, but she can’t just leave this girl to her own devices.

She’s gathering up the nerve to jump down there, hand reaching for her yoyo on her utility belt, but... someone beats her to it.

He’s dressed in all black, gold hair glinting under the moonlight, brandishing a baton. And are those... _cat ears?_ Marinette narrows her eyes, whispering, “What—?”

“Well,” she hears him say confidently, “I think I have _purr_ fect timing, don’t you?”

One of the guys sneers at him. “Who the hell are you?”

The cat twirls his baton, seemingly bored. “Not an asshole who thinks he can take advantage of unsuspecting people. I’d even go as far as saying I’m a decent person.”

The men growl and the fighting ensues in an instant, and surprisingly, cat guy holds his ground. He spins his baton like an expert, bobbing and weaving, never doing too much damage to the brutes. At least, nothing permanent. He manages to knock out three of them by the time Ladybug joins the fight. She takes out two in a row with her yoyo and she reminds herself to ask Alya how the hell she managed to _weaponize a yoyo_.

The two vigilantes don’t properly meet until the police are called and the girl has gotten home safely.

“The name’s Chat Noir, my Lady,” he says, holding out a hand.

_He’s certainly charming_ , she thinks as she takes his hand. Instead of shaking it, he brings it up to his lips, kissing her knuckles lightly. “Pleasure,” she says, fighting off a blush.

His eyes glint as he grins wickedly, and there’s something oddly familiar about them. She knows someone with green eyes like that, and that’s— “Looks like there’s a new hero in town, hm?” Chat says.

Her brows furrow and she narrows her eyes. “Uh, no,” she backs away, “I think I can handle it, actually.”

She starts to head off, to go home, but Chat Noir doesn’t give up. “H-hey, wait. We don’t have to be friends but—I don’t want to be enemies either. I’m going to continue as Chat Noir, no matter what you say. Has Ladybug ever considered a sidekick?”

“You? A sidekick?” She snorts. “You want to be somebody’s sidekick?”

His ears droop a little, which— _what? how_ ? “No. No, actually. But have you ever thought of having a partner? C’mon. Paris needs a little duo hero action. Literally partners in crime. _Purr_ tners in crime.”

“Okay, maybe I was considering up until you said that.”

He hasn’t stopped smiling and Ladybug doesn’t think she ever wants him to stop and. _Damn him_. “Alright,” he sighs, “I guess I tried. I suppose these whiskers are too much for you to handle.”

“Wha—?” She turns to him. “They’re not—you aren’t—! It’s not like that, alright? I just... I work alone, okay?”

He shrugs. “But you don’t have to. Sometimes this is a tough job to do,” she stares at him blankly and he sighs again, “Look, what I’m saying is, I’ve got your back. Here, how about we split the city? You take south of the Seine, I’ll take the north.”

“Hey hey hey. Whoa. _I’ll_ take the north, I’ve been protecting this city longer than you have so I get the bigger half.”

His lips curl up again. “And the claws have come out,” he laughs. “Alright, my Lady, you get the bigger half,” he winks. “Until next time, LB.”

He’s gone within the blink of an eye.

Marinette gets home in a fit. “Who does that guy think he is?” she throws up her hands in frustration and her roommate watches in amusement. “I was here first. Why does he think he can just... just _show up_? He’s such a—such a—”

“Copycat?” Alya offers.

“Yes! No—” Marinette groans. “Ugh, shut up, that was terrible and I hate you.”

“Hey,” Alya shrugs, “maybe this could be good for you. You know how dangerous it can get out there, at least now you know you have someone you can count on,” the corners of her mouth kick up in a secretive smile, “And he sounds cute. And the way you’re talking about him, it seems like you can actually hold a conversation with him without foaming at the mouth.”

Marinette stuffs her face in a pillow. “ _Alya_.”

“Honestly, I’m proud of you, girl. I thought you were a lost cause because of Adrien. I thought maybe every guy caused you to lose your head, but you seem to be a real functioning human being with other people,” she pauses, “maybe it’s time to just give up on Adrien.”

Marinette sighs. “You _know_ that’s never going to happen, Alya.” And it isn’t. She’s getting butterflies just _thinking_ about him. _Still_.

Alya’s mouth twists. “Just. Don’t limit yourself to him. You’ve gotta be good to yourself, too.”

In the first few months of their superhero partnership, Ladybug really comes to know Chat Noir. His real job consists of odd hours; he never knows when he has to go into work until hours before he does and just— _how_ do you function like that, Marinette wonders. This means Marinette can’t always rely on him for nighttime patrols and sometimes it’s hard, but Ladybug always manages. She finds he’s not as annoying as he first appeared to be. He’s loyal, kind, gruff and overprotective and it’s. Well, honestly, everything Marinette has ever wanted. Not that she’d ever tell him that. And he’s _smart_ too and an awesome fighter and Marinette hates her life as Ladybug because he’d never give up his secret identity, not even for her. He’s made that much clear; there’s a subtle sort of fear in his eyes that give him away whenever they speak of their secret identities. He tells her about his father, about how controlling he is of his son and his father’s negligence and disregard for him when he was growing up and she hates him on principle.

But she’s falling hard for this awful Chat Noir and she doesn’t know what to do.

And then she meets up with Adrien in the first time in _months_ when she finds out she’s supposed to design something for him to wear to showcase on the runway and she’s _screwed_ because he’s just as pretty and sweet and caring as she remembers.

“Hey, Marinette, it’s good to see you again,” Adrien smiles. “I can’t wait to see what you come up with.”

_Oh fuck_. “H-hi, Adrien. It’s um. Really good to s-see you too. I,” she reminds herself to _breathe_ , “Uh. Thanks. Thank you,” she finishes, and hides her cringe.

His smile just gets bigger, like the bastard _knows_ why she can’t form coherent sentences around him, like he knows she’s had a big stupid crush on him since they were stupid teenagers and this is probably the worst day of Marinette’s life.

But she pushes through it. For her job. Not at all to be with Adrien, nope. She manages to survive the next few weeks working with him, despite having the desire to puke twice a day. She likes catching up with Adrien; it’s been too long being around him without the presence of his looming and macabre father. It’s nice, even. But she still stutters.

He even gives her his phone number and she nearly _dies_. “Here,” he says with a shy smile. “We should hang out more often.”

It takes all of her willpower not to melt on the floor.

Marinette has seen so little of Chat throughout the past few weeks and when she runs into him next, she can’t help but feel guilty. She sighs wearily and plops down next to him on a leg of the Eiffel Tower.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Chat Noir. I hope you weren’t too lonely without me.”

His grin is sharp and quick. “Incredibly. But that’s alright, LB. We’ve both been... pretty busy.”

She shrugs, seemingly nonchalant, suddenly embarrassed. “Still. I’m sorry you had to go out and patrol alone.”

Chat’s face softens and he grabs her hand, plays with her fingers. “I managed,” he says, clearly amused. “Correct me if I’m wrong, my Lady, but I think you’ve grown a soft spot for me.”

She pulls her hand away with fake disgust. “That reminds me of how much I immensely I dislike you.”

He leans in. “Immensely, huh?”

“Irrevocably,” she adds cheekily. She blatantly ignores how breathy she sounds.

Ladybug can feel his breath on her lips. “Hm, maybe i can change that.”

Her heart pounds in her chest and—she wants this right? She likes Chat Noir _a lot_ if she’s being honest with herself, but. She’s pretty sure she loves Adrien. She pulls away abruptly and Chat’s lips swipe her cheek.

Her heart in her throat, she chokes out, “I-I should go. Back to my side.”

A flush settles on Chat’s face and his chest heaves. “Yeah,” he says roughly and it makes Ladybug feel only a tiny bit better knowing she wasn’t the only one affected. But only a little.

The two heroes manage to avoid each other all the while protecting the city for two weeks until they’re brought together again by an attack on the mayor’s home.

Several of the attackers have guns.

The police make an attempt to keep them from entering the building for their safety. But the mayor’s _life_ is on the line. Even Alya tries to remind Ladybug that she’s not a _real_ superhero; she has no magical powers, she can’t just swing her yoyo around and everything suddenly becomes better. She has to rely on her own personal strength. If she dies, there’s no coming back.

But Ladybug is too deep in this. If she doesn’t stop these raiders, she’ll never forgive herself. And Chat will always be by her side. He’s too loyal.

And she hates him for it. Because despite how strong and fast and how well he can twirl his stupid baton, he takes a bullet for her. Ladybug has never felt so much guilt in her life and she hates him and she hates herself. He manages to escape as the police collect the unconscious bodies and lock them away. She’s managed to get banged up too: a few cuts, a bullet graze. Her yoyo wrist feels broken, or sprained at least. Her bones feel heavy and all she wants to do is collapse in bed. But first she has to find Chat.

It’s not very difficult. He’s clearly bleeding heavily, and Ladybug feels faint just thinking about him out there alone, wounded. She follows his trail of... _havoc._ There are blood stains and overturned items, like he couldn’t quite control his balance. She tries not to think about that because this clear evidence of his ineptness is the exact opposite of Chat Noir.

She finds him bleeding out in an alley. “Oh,” she whispers, her throat clogging up. “You stupid cat.”

Chat attempts to laugh, but spits out blood instead and winces, “Hey, LB. Don’t start bugging out on me.”

Ladybug wants to hit him. How can even _joke_ right now? She clenches her jaw to keep her tears at bay. “Come on, silly kitty. We need to get you patched up.”

He nearly yowls in pain when she gets him up but still manages, “I’m _paw_ sitive I’ll be okay, Lady.”

“Will you—” her throat tightens again, “will you _stop_ ? This... this is all my fault, Chat. Just let me try to... _fix this_.”

He sobers up pretty quickly, as if finally understanding how dire the situation is. “It’s not your fault, Ladybug. I would take a bullet for you anyday. Everyday, if I had to.”

Those stupid tears are back and he ruins the moment by adding, “Though I hope it’s not everyday. Getting shot is exhausting.”

She gets him to shut up by calling Alya for backup. She knows it’s stupid, but. She doesn’t want to expose his identity by taking him to a hospital. Fortunately, he’s knocked out by the time she gets to the alley and doesn’t see where they take him; she doesn’t necessarily want _him_ to know her identity either, no matter how desperate she is to get him to a safe place.

They set him down on the kitchen table. The bullet went through his left side, but doesn’t seem to have hit anything vital or life-threatening.

She patches him up as best she can using a standard first-aid kit, and it takes longer than she would’ve liked but he seems stable. Ladybug wants nothing more than to go back to being Marinette and sleeping, but she stays up by Chat’s side until he wakes up. She runs her hands through his hair. He would never let her live it down if he was awake.

When he wakes up, his hand shoots to his face and then he winces from the sudden movement. “Chat!” Ladybug chastises.

His fingers curl around his mask. “You didn’t... you didn’t take it off?”

“No. I _was_ curious, I’ll admit. But I wouldn’t want to disrespect your wishes like that.” She grasps his hand and holds tight, ignoring the heat in her cheeks. “You scared me, kitty.”

He tangles their fingers together. “It shouldn't have scared you, LB. I’ve got nine lives.”

“You know that’s not funny, Chat,” she scolds gently, “not when your life is on the line.”

He swallows, “You’re right. I’m sorry,” he tries for a smile and brings her hand up to his face, fitting her fingers under his mask. “Here.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks, alarmed. Was he—?

His smile is soft, his eyes open. “I want you to see.” He unclips his stupid cat ears and her fingers involuntarily tighten around his mask, moved by nerves. His other hand reaches for the other side of the mask. “Ready?” Ladybug’s heart pounds, but she helps him remove the mask and she swears she feels her heart stop.

“A-Adrien? But— _w-what_ —”

Adrien’s smile grows and he teases the bottom of her own mask. “Yeah. And you’re Marinette.”

Her voice rises a few octaves. “Um. H-how’d you know that.”

He shrugs a shoulder. “You’re Marinette,” he repeats. “How could I ever forget your face? There was no way I wasn’t going to not recognize you, Mar.”

“Oh,” she says softly. “ _Oh._ ”

And he laughs, tugs her down. His mouth is warm is it slants against hers. She presses against him as much as she can without hurting him too bad. Marinette sighs against his mouth.

She can live with this, she thinks.

The next time they’re on patrol, they meet up at Pont de l'Archevêché behind Notre Dame. Chat Noir pulls her close and she fits perfectly in the curve of his body.

“Hey,” Chat whispers against her mouth. Ladybug feels his lips curl up in a smile, making it impossible to hold her own. “Guess what.”

“Hm?” She hums.

He kisses her roughly, tongue tracing the seam of her lips, “Cat’s got your tongue.”

She wrinkles her nose and pushes him away. “Ugh, why do I like you?”

He grins wickedly. “Because I’m _paw_ esome,” and he leans in for another kiss.

And if there’s a picture of them sucking face floating around the internet the next day, well. Adrien and Marinette are too preoccupied to notice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on [tumblr](http://protectchatnoir.tumblr.com/)


End file.
